


And There's A Breaking Point

by CherryBonBon



Series: And Something's Got To Give [4]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Eye Gouging, Eye Trauma, Gen, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25524136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBonBon/pseuds/CherryBonBon
Summary: A conversation of what comes next, and the unpleasantness that follows.
Relationships: Orginal Character & Original Character
Series: And Something's Got To Give [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847296





	And There's A Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Almost all of the creepy/spooky things Scylla does (or happen around them) are noncanonical to the campaign but I like to imagine they're Like That Sometimes.

Scylla watches Althaea drive her knife into the monster’s eye and they wince. They need that. Althaea _knows_ they need that. Maybe not why, exactly, they can never quite manage to go into specifics without something getting in the way— but she still knows.

“I needed that,” Scylla says. Because it’s true and keeping it to themself doesn’t help anyone. Because maybe next time Althaea won’t stab something in the eye.

“What, I left you the other one!” And Althaea gestures to the eye that doesn’t have a knife in it. “You can have that one! What’s the big deal?”

“I needed both.” Still, Scylla walks over and begins the process of removing the intact eye. “The details of the pact were clear as he could make it. All eyes of important enemies, whenever possible. And always make it possible.”

“I’m not sure this was an important enemy,” Althaea observes like this is accurate. It isn’t, of course. Althaea just doesn’t understand because she doesn’t think like Scylla. Doesn’t worry like Scylla. Doesn’t hear the whispers like Scylla.

“They’re all important,” Scylla explains as the eye pops out. “They’re new and exciting and full of knowledge. If he doesn’t like it, he’ll tell me to stop. But as it stands the things he learns are… adequate. Acceptable. Good enough. Another word for reasonable.”

“You do all this for good enough?” Althaea seems critical. Althaea is free. Not held to anyone’s expectations and would never let herself be told what to do. Would never settle for the kind of deal Scylla’s been stuck with. Not even under the conditions Scylla was in. She’d find a way to push through and get revenge with her own power. Instead of being trapped by an entity so powerful he slowly broke the mind of whoever worked under him.

“I do all this for Aello and my crew. For _revenge_.” And Scylla’s voice goes deep and cold and twisting at the end, a spiraling madness that drips like water from their mouth and makes Althaea’s ears itch. It isn’t intentional, just something that happens sometimes, but does get the point across. Scylla is not sacrificing happiness and freedom for sacrifices’ sake, but for the sake of those they’ve lost and the one they’re trying to get back.

“Right. But what about when you get revenge?” Althaea scratches at her ear, almost absentmindedly but a little too forcefully. Almost like she’s trying to get something out. “What do you do then? Can you… do you leave? Or are you working for…” she waves her hand, because she still doesn’t know who Scylla’s god is, “spooky eye, I guess, forever?”

“I don’t know.” And they don’t. They haven’t tried asking, don’t really want to, because they’re afraid. What if they’re stuck like this and can never rest? Scylla was a merchant marine for 200 years, hard labor and barely a moment’s rest, and yet somehow the few months they’ve been working for Cthulhu has been more tiring than all that time combined. Maybe it’s all the secrets. All the hard choices. All the eyeballs. All the eyeballs constantly watching them.  
Scylla drops the eye from the monster in a vial for safekeeping and it promptly rolls around to stare at them. Typical. 

“You should find out,” Althaea says. But she doesn’t understand. She understands what it’s like to be trapped, yes, but not like this. Not in the never-getting-out sense. Althaea escapes, Scylla can’t. You can run from family, run from societal expectation, but how do you run from someone omnipresent? Someone in your head?  
Impossible. Scylla is Cthulhu’s to control until he decides to abandon them and that is an unlikely event for a long time.

“I’ll think about it,” Scylla says mostly just to end the conversation. Oh to end the conversation.

“It’s just… you can’t keep doing this forever, Scylla.” She’s right, they know she’s right. But the question is how long can they keep going until they _have_ to stop, until they break. Because technically they don’t have to try and end their pact, they just have to wait it out until the breaking point. Eventually something has to give and Scylla will no longer be useful. That’s when they’re free, that’s when they can settle down. And Scylla’s fine waiting until then.

“I know.” But it’s not convincing enough and Althaea levels a look at them.

“You can’t keep living like this,” she says. And it’s gentle words but there’s something hard about it. “I know you’re upset about Aello but you ca—”

“I’m getting her back!” Scylla snaps. Immediately takes a step back. Anger is not something they like. It makes the whispers louder, makes their skin feel hot and slimy and ready to boil. The air curls around them, not in a way that’s visible but in a way that’s felt, and Althaea watches them carefully. “I’m getting her back, okay? And you aren’t going to be mad about things she did while under her sister’s control and everything is going to be okay and I _will_ figure it out.”

“Right.” Althaea is agreeing less because she really does and more because something sharp is pressing against the inside of her head, dragging nails against her skull, and it makes it hard to think. “Of course.”

“Everything is going to turn out fine,” Scylla insists. “I just have to put in the work.”

“How long can you work at it until you reach a breaking point?” Althaea asks, shaking her head to clear it of the fog slowly building behind her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“That is an acceptable risk.” Scylla watches her reaction, watches her worry. It’s expected. Scylla is good at saying strange things and having them be dismissed, but they also know this is more alarming than normal. At the very least, they’ve always seemed to care about their own health. So of course, with this new facet of Scylla’s strangeness causes Althaea concern. It doesn’t help when they add: “There’s a breaking point, yes, but I am ready for it. I am waiting for it.”

“Scylla are you… okay?” She doesn’t approach them, keeps her distance like with a wild animal that might bite, but does reach out a hand in offering. Maybe for Scylla to sniff and see she’s not a threat.

“I’m fine, Althaea.” They do not sound fine. They sound close to it, but a little to the left. Like they’re almost there but drifting away.

“Okay. Well. Do you wanna go back to the guild? We can mess with Rimero.” This is the wrong thing to say, because Scylla doesn’t like messing with Rimero. They want their friend to be happy, not annoyed, and has never enjoyed the pranks Althaea and Korryn play on him. So they take another step away from her and inhale sharply.

“I think I’d rather stay out here, actually.” And something unseen curls around them. Something dangerous, although Althaea can’t tell who it’s dangerous for. Maybe just for the world in general. Still, it curls and wraps and makes Scylla hard to look at. “I need to make my offering.”

“You can do that back at the guild,” Althaea says, a little helplessly. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

“It’s better out here. I can hear.” They don’t specify what they can hear in the woods and not in their room, but something is implied there. Something Althaea doesn’t like. So she finally takes a step forward towards her friend.

“I think we should go back. You can… _talk_ to Rimero. You like talking to him, right?” Althaea likes teasing Rimero, and sometimes assumes everyone does. Sometimes she assumes the way Scylla talks to him is teasing. But when she really thinks about it, they’re usually very sincere and kind around him. Wistful, even. So maybe this is a better approach. “I bet he’ll tell you a cool story about something sketc— interesting. Something interesting he’s done.”

And there’s a breaking point, both in that one day Scylla will fall apart and also in that they never stay strange like this for long. As soon as the right words are said they calm down, the air settles, the pressure trying to pop out your eye disappears. Althaea can abruptly look straight at Scylla instead of over their shoulder and while she hadn’t noticed it being difficult to breathe, it’s now much easier to do so.

“That does sound nice,” Scylla agrees. “I like his stories. I like the way he tells them.” And they shiver, for a moment, and then it passes and the fear washes away from the air.

“Okay. Let’s go then.” She wiggles her still outstretched hand and Scylla stares at it for a moment before walking over and taking it. Something passes by the two of them but Althaea steadfast ignores it, choosing to start leading her friend back to the guild instead.

They both leave what just happened behind them, at least of the moment. Choose to ignore it in favor of the future. Two different versions of it, yes, two different expectations, but for the future they’re both working towards nonetheless. And that is something, even if it’s not a lot.


End file.
